


you've survived everything so far... I don't see this as much different

by rookiewithachance



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, Supernatural Elements, it's very vague and only happens for a moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-13 07:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11755317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rookiewithachance/pseuds/rookiewithachance
Summary: "And, see, that's when the weird shit started."Michael starts exhibiting weird behavior that has Jeremy concerned, but there was no way for Jeremy to prepare himself for what was actually wrong.AKA Michael is turned into a vampire and is really angsty over it. Jeremy Tries His Best™





	1. Just Not Feeling Like It

**Author's Note:**

> SO HERE IT IS my monstrous 10k fic. I'm breaking it up into two parts because it's way too long.... plus it will probs get more hits this way B) I'm not ashamed
> 
> it's been way too long since I've written a vampire fic.... it feels nice to be back in the game

Michael was the one with the car (and the license, really) in the relationship, which meant that he was responsible for 90% of their transportation. The only reason it wasn’t 100% was Jeremy walked from his house to Michael’s house on a semi-regular basis.

And Jeremy was fine with that. He loved how comfortable Michael’s car was, and how much character he had given it in the short time it had been his. Plus, he himself was way too anxious of a person to be able to safely drive anywhere outside of his driveway. Michael was content to drive them both anywhere they needed to go.

This, however, came with some drawbacks. The biggest one being, of course, that when Michael’s car was out of commission for any reason, or he just doesn’t drive somewhere, they’re left to walk.

Which, to be honest, Jeremy doesn’t mind that a bit. He will never pass up the opportunity to hold Michael’s hand as they make their way away from the hell hole that was their high school, talking about everything and nothing. Here, he got to see the way the sun reflected off Michael’s glasses, and the way the warm light highlighted everything beautiful about him.

Michael snickered in response to a story Jeremy had told him about an exam his history teacher had helped them review for, and the ridiculous way he had gone about it. “Yeah, dude, some teachers don’t know how to teach unless they’re treating us like five year olds.”

“Like, I appreciate the effort in trying to make the Guilded Age more interesting,” Jeremy said, trying in vain to justify it, “but, like…”

“It’s just hopeless.”

“ _Exactly_.”

“Nothing can make the Guilded Age more interesting. It’s flat-out impossible.”

“Fuckin’! Right?”

Jeremy couldn’t help but giggle at Michael’s laughter, the sight too cute for him to resist leaning over and placing a kiss to Michael’s temple. “So how was your day?”

In response, Michael just shrugged. “Boring as fuck. Nothing funny to report, I’m afraid.”

“You had a test in Calc, right? How’d that go?”

“Eh? I feel like I coulda done better, but for someone who didn’t study at all I feel like I at least passed?”

Jeremy raised their joined hands in celebration. “Niiice, dude. We should celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?” Michael scoffed, clearly unimpressed at Jeremy’s enthusiasm. “My mediocrity?”

“Nah, dude. I just wanna celebrate everything you do.”

The beginnings of a blush made their way onto Michael’s face, and he rolled his eyes in an obvious attempt at keeping his cool. “And how exactly should we celebrate my _momentous_ accomplishment?”

Jeremy’s eyes shone as he grinned down at Michael. “I propose a healthy dose of getting stoned in your basement, my dude.”

And, see, that was when the weird shit started. Something about Michael’s expression shifted, and he looked away, watching the sidewalk as it disappeared beneath their feet. “Probably not today, Jer.”

“What? Why?”

“I…” Michael shrugged, his grip on Jeremy’s hand loosening. “I dunno. Just not feeling like it I guess.”

That alone set of multiple alarms in Jeremy’s head. First of all, Michael was _never_ not in the mood to get stoned. It was like Jeremy and sex—always ready, any time, any place, even if it wasn’t the most convenient of circumstances. The only reason Michael wouldn’t smoke weed at any given point is if he didn’t fucking have any, in which case he would be out _buying more weed_. And Michael had just bought plenty that past week.

Second of all… _just not feeling like it_?

Michael always had a reason for things. It was kind of a joke with him, in all honesty. Even if he truly didn’t have a justification or reasoning behind something, he would make up an elaborate explanation for it. Those were some of the funniest things Michael had ever told Jeremy, like that one time Michael had decided to play hookie and not invite Jeremy (which, an aside, rude) and when Jeremy asked him where he’d been he spent half an hour weaving a tale about how a troll had stolen his headphones and made him run all these stupid and outrageous errands for him in order to get them back. That had Jeremy on the floor. And Michael always did things like that.

So the fact that he “just wasn’t feeling it” was already off.

But then again, maybe Jeremy was reading way too far into things. He did have a habit of doing that.

Hesitantly, Jeremy decided to shrug it off or chock it up to Michael being tired or something. “If you say so, dude. I just know that getting me high is one of your favorite past times, and figured I’d offer. But if you’re willing to pass up a golden opportunity...”

Michael snorted, taking his hand back and stuffing both of his hands into his one, big, hoodie pocket. “As tempting as that is, I think I’m good. Let’s just… I dunno, hang out instead. I’m kinda tired.”

“Hey, then why don’t we take a nap?” Jeremy could certainly use one. He could always use more sleep than what he gets, and he knows Michael is the same way.

Michael’s face lit up a little, and he smiled over at Jeremy, seeming appreciative. “That actually sounds great, babe.”

Jeremy returned Michael’s smile, looping his arm through Michael’s and stuffing his hands into his own pockets, mirroring Michael in a way that made him huff a giggle under his breath. “Sweet. Shall we go to your place, since it’s closer?”

“I suppose we shall.”

Conveniently enough, they had just turned onto Michael’s street as they decided this, so they wasted no time in getting inside and heading down into Michael’s room. There was a note at the top of the stairs from Michael’s grandparents saying that they would be out for most of the day, and that there was food in the fridge if they weren’t home before dinner, blah blah blah. Michael tore the note down and stuffed it in his pocket before descending the stairs, Jeremy in tow.

Once they got into the basement, Michael shucked off his backpack and threw it down near the stairs. Jeremy did the same, chuckling a bit to himself as he arranged their backpacks to spell _boyf riends_. While originally intended to be mean, it was kind of great now, and even Rich agrees that he thought it was cute deep down when he did it.

Satisfied, Jeremy turned back to make his way to Michael’s bed. He saw that Michael had simply toed off his shoes before crawling beneath the covers, so Jeremy did the same. Jeremy smiled when Michael wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s waist, pulling them closer together so he can bury his face into Jeremy’s shoulder and tangle their legs together. Jeremy felt the faint pressure of Michael’s foot rubbing against the inside of his ankle, and smiled, loving the way Michael would do that unconsciously when he was trying to relax. It felt nice, he thought; a conscious reminder that Michael was there with him, comfortable and soothed by Jeremy’s presence. His heart swelled, and he tangled a hand in Michael’s hair, wrapping his other arm around Michael’s shoulders. Michael sighed against him, content. The puff of breath brushed across Jeremy’s skin, and even through his tee shirt he felt warmed by it. He knew he was blushing.

That one, small thing suddenly made him hyper-aware of every point of contact he shared with Michael—which was, uh, all of them. Basically. He valiantly tried to ignore his thoughts as they descended into indecency, burying his face in Michael’s hair. He smelled really nice. Fuck, that wasn’t helping.

After a moment, Michael huffed, shifting around until he had enough wiggle room to worm himself out of his hoodie, tossing it somewhere else on the bed. He situated himself so that his back was to Jeremy, settling back against him and allowing Jeremy to wrap his arms around him again, this time across the stomach. “Jeremy, this is very-much-non-sexual-cuddling time. Shut it down.”

Jeremy heaved an overdramatic sigh, lifting his head up a bit until he could see Michael’s face, who was glancing back at him over his shoulder. They’d known each other long enough that Jeremy knew perfectly well when Michael was fighting back a smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeremy said, leaning in to nuzzle into Michael’s neck. His lips brushed against the newly-exposed skin, now that Michael’s hoodie was out of the way, and Michael shivered. “But, like… what if it wasn’t though?”

Michael snorted, squirming in an obviously fake attempt at getting away. “If that’s your way of seducing me, Jeremy fucking Heere, I’m sorry but we have to break up.”

“No way, man! If I’m fucking here, as you say, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Michael buried his face into his hands, groaning. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“ _Yup_.”

Shaking his head, Michael shifted around to once again face Jeremy. “I’m dating a complete dork. I can’t believe it.”

“Oh believe it, baby, ‘cause it’s happening.”

“Get out.”

“C’mon, babe, don’t—”

“Get out of my room, get out of my _house_.”

“Don’t be like that!”

“Too late. You’ve lost cuddling privileges.”

To prove his point, Michael extricated himself from Jeremy’s embrace to shuffle away from him, back all-but against the wall at this point. Jeremy was snickering too much to stop him, but he did chase after him, pleasantly surprised when he ended up pinning Michael against the wall. Michael’s eyes grew wide as he realized how thoroughly his retreat had backfired on him, and Jeremy flashed him a smile, wiggling his eyebrows for further effect. Michael’s hands fisted the fabric of Jeremy’s shirt at the chest at the same time that Jeremy brought a hand to the back of Michael’s neck into the base of his hair, thumb dancing across Michael’s cheek.

“This is still cuddling, Jeremy,” Michael said, though it sounded very unconvinced, and he made no move to push Jeremy away. “This will not stand.”

Jeremy only grinned, leaning down until his face was mere inches from Michael’s, breath mingling between the ever-shrinking space between their mouths. “Who said that was my intention?”

Any response Michael may have had, Jeremy swallowed, meeting Michael’s lips with his insistently. Michael sighed against him, hands drifting up until Michael’s arms were looped around his neck. The hand Jeremy had in Michael’s hair slid farther upward, fingers carding through Michael’s stiff hair, working out the gel that kept it styled during the day. The hand not in Michael’s hair shifted down to grip Michael’s hip, moving the two of them together until Michael lay atop Jeremy, whose back was against the sheets. Michael writhed, just a little, against him, another sigh passing between them. Now that it had done what it had set out to do, the hand on Michael’s hip started to wander, tracing up and down Michael’s side and across his back, sneaking under the hem of Michael’s shirt and brushing against the small of his back. Michael’s breath hitched, and his hands tangled themselves into Jeremy’s hair and tugged in retaliation.

Jeremy broke the kiss with a gasp, eyes closing against a sudden wave of pleasure at the sensation. When he reopened them, he grinned devilishly up at Michael before ducking down, trailing kisses up and down Michael’s neck and what was exposed of his shoulder. Michael hissed, which Jeremy took as encouragement, and dragged his teeth across the skin before him.

Then, though, there was a hand on his shoulder.

“Stop, stop, Jer…”

Immediately, Jeremy pulled back, concerned at Michael’s tone. It sounded strained, and when he looked at Michael’s face, he had the expression to match. “Micah? What’s wrong?”

Instead of actually answering, Michael just shook his head and pushed himself up, going to sit on the edge of the bed. The action left Jeremy confused and really, intensely anxious. He’d done something, he must have, god what if Michael had felt pressured? Shit he didn’t want to be that guy, the last thing he wanted was to make Michael uncomfortable but that had to be what happened, fuck, he’s so—

“I can hear you blaming yourself Jeremy, and stop.”

Jeremy bit his lip, trying to push down the intrusive thoughts. He moved to sit next to Michael instead, watching as he hid his face in his hands. Jeremy wasn’t sure what to say, what he _could_ say, really, so he just sat there. The silence lapsed between them.

Eventually, Michael sighed, his hands falling into his lap. “Sorry about that,” he muttered, sounding exhausted. “It’s nothing you did. I’m just… not feeling very well. I think I might be coming down with something, I dunno.”

Jeremy nodded. “It is that time of year.”

“Yeah. Can we just… sleep? Like, actual napping?”

“Of course, Micah. All you had to do was ask. I may be constantly horny for ya, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have basic human decency and respect.”

The comment made Michael chuckle, the sound almost caught in his throat. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Jer.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They shifted back under the covers, Michael curled up away from Jeremy. His body language was screaming for him to be left alone, and Jeremy allowed him that, the flickers of anxiety still licking at his stomach. Michael had said he wasn’t feeling well, and Jeremy believed him, but… something about it didn’t sit right with him. He did his best not to dwell on it as he drifted off to sleep.

 - - -

It had been about a week since then, and Michael’s weird behavior hadn’t let up. Michael barely touched Jeremy at all anymore, avoiding any and all kinds of physical contact when he could. They still hung out, he still drove Jeremy home from school, but he spent most of the time zoned out or hazy. Though Jeremy never would have called Michael lively, there was a very noticeable drop in Michael’s energy levels as time went on. He _sucked at video games_ , losing almost every match the two played, no matter what the game was. Jeremy was completely terrified. There had only been one time Jeremy could remember Michael getting like this, and that was when his depression had gotten so bad his grandparents were forced to hospitalize him. He could only hope that he was catastrophizing the situation, and that Michael would be fine. He kept reminding himself that Michael was probably just sick, but by this point he knew that wasn’t true, and that there was something different, something probably way worse going on.

After somehow winning against Michael in Mortal Kombat, on Michael’s favorite stage, while Michael was playing his favorite character, Jeremy knew that this wasn’t going to change on its own.

“So, uh,” he began, realizing that he had _no plan_ going into this, but knowing he couldn’t stand around and say nothing anymore, “you wanna… talk about what’s bothering you?”

For a second, Michael didn’t respond. It didn’t even look like he’d heard Jeremy at all. Then he seemed to jump out of his thoughts, blinking, and looked over at Jeremy. He gave him what was probably supposed to be a comforting smile. “Nothing’s bothering me, man. I’m fine. Just still not feeling great.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jeremy paused the game and set his remote down. He turned in his beanbag chair, the sound of crunching Styrofoam the only ambiance as Michael stared at him, wide-eyed. Jeremy returned it with a squint. “Michael, I’ve known you since we were kids. We’ve been dating for like, six months now. I’m _pretty_ sure this isn’t the flu. You know that’s not gonna cut it, right?”

“Jer, I’m f—”

“No, Michael! You’re not!”

Jeremy took a deep breath, heart aching at the way his tone made Michael flinch. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. Michael didn’t look at him, following his hand as it dropped back down to his lap. “I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just… you’re really worrying me, Michael. Something’s wrong, and you won’t tell me what, and…”

Something in Jeremy’s head clicked, and it made his blood run cold. “Michael, you’re not… hurting yourself again, are you?”

Michael shriveled under those words, crossing his arms and drawing even further into himself as his controller fell to the floor, forgotten. “N-no, Jer, I told you, I’m… I’m really fine, okay? Can we just… get back to—”

Though he knew this was probably the exact opposite of what he should do in this situation, Jeremy’s anxieties got the best of him. He grabbed one of Michael’s hands by the wrist, yanking Michael closer as he pulled his arm until it was fully extended. Panic rose in Michael’s eyes when Jeremy went to grab his hoodie sleeve. “Jeremy, wait!”

 _I have to know, I have to figure out what’s wrong so I can help him_ , was all Jeremy could think as he pushed Michael’s sleeve up to the elbow.

They both fell silent as Jeremy stared, confused, at Michael’s arm.

“M-Micah… where did…”

Michael had struggled with self-harm for a few years, and Jeremy had become accustomed to Michael wearing long sleeves in ninety-degree weather just so he didn’t have to look at the scars. He figured he was one of the few people that Michael felt comfortable showing them to. Now, though, he stared at Michael’s smooth, untouched skin.

Using Jeremy’s shock to his advantage, Michael ripped his hand out of Jeremy’s grip, yanking his sleeve back down. He immediately went back to crossing his arms, a slight tremble in his movements. He bunched the fabric of his hoodie sleeves in his hands, refusing to look at Jeremy. Jeremy’s mind was racing, to the point where he couldn’t pin down any one thought.

“I, um… you know how like, I make those late-night runs to 7/11?” Michael said, his voice wavering and unsure, coming out just too fast that Jeremy had to focus to be able to understand him. “And there’s one like two blocks down from here, so I just tend to walk there cuz it’s easier and saves gas and. Well, uh.” He swallowed, aggressively rubbing away the tears welling up in his eyes. “A few weeks ago I was walking back and. These guys, I didn’t see them, and they... god, their eyes it was like… there was something _wrong_ about them, Jer, and I should have known to… I should have ran or…”

His emotions seemed to overwhelm him, and he stopped, ducking his head down. His breath was shaky and uneven, his shoulders shaking with tears he refused to shed. Jeremy’s heart hurt all over again. “Hey, Micah, it’s alright. Breathe.”

Slowly, Michael nodded, taking deeper breaths. That seemed to calm him down a bit. Jeremy smiled, relieved. He watched Michael scrub at his eyes with his sleeves before he finally looked back up. For the first time that night, Jeremy stared into his eyes and saw _him_. His Michael. No more walls in his mind between them. Michael sighed. “Yeah, it was. Bad. They uh, tag teamed me, and.”

Once again, he had to pause, closing his eyes tight and pursing his lips, as if trying to force the memory out of his head. “They… they were vampires, Jer.”

Jeremy felt his stomach drop. Millions and millions of questions and thoughts swirled through his head, though two took the spotlight right now: first, vampires? What the fuck? What the _fuck_? And second, is Michael okay? It took him a moment to get his words together, and even then, what came out was far from eloquent. “I didn’t think… I mean, they’re supposed to be—”

“Fictional?” Michael chuckled humorlessly, a hollow sound. “Believe me, dude, I thought that too. I still kinda wish it were true. But, y’know. Kinda hard to think that now.”

Suddenly, Jeremy frowned. That _does_ explain why Michael’s been acting weird but… what about the scars? His brows furrowed. “So, wait, what about…?”

“I was probably supposed to be dead. The last thing I remember is them saying it was… a shame… to… to _waste_ me. Then just… an explosion of pain.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

He blanched. Of his two main concerns, he immediately benched the first one. He could freak out about this later. Michael was more important than any confusion he might have over the situation. “Holy shit… Michael, I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Michael shook his head, sinking back into his beanbag chair. He was visibly shaking now. “Thanks, Jeremy, but… this isn’t something to be sorry over. I don’t deserve that at this point. The things I’ve felt… the _thoughts_ I’ve had…”

Jeremy shook his head, reaching out to try and comfort Michael. “Micah, you know none of that is you.”

“ _You don’t know that_.”

“Yes, Micah, I do!”

Michael just stared at him, disbelieving. Silence lapsed between them.

Finally, Jeremy couldn’t stand it. The silence, the not knowing, all of it. He spoke before he could think about what he was about to say. “Is that why… you didn’t want to kiss me?”

“… yeah.” He forced his hands to relax, unclenching them from his sleeves and shoving them into his hoodie pocket. From the way the fabric kept shifting, Jeremy thought he was probably messing with something he had in there. Healthier stress relief, Jeremy figured. “It’s a lot of physical contact, and you get all red and your heartrate’s up and… it makes it hard not to…” Instead of finishing his sentence, Michael just gave a half-hearted shrug. “Y’know.”

Jeremy couldn’t help but snicker a bit at the way Michael was dancing around his predicament. “Okay, first of all, let’s not pussyfoot around this, dude. You’re a vampire, and you drink blood. You wanna bite people.”

He watched as Michael went white as a sheet, but Jeremy still managed to get a smile out of him. “Did you literally just say the word _pussyfoot_? The 1920s called, it wants its word back.”

They laughed about it for a little, Jeremy hopeful that the lighthearted moment had helped pull Michael out of his head a bit. When he looked back, though, he saw the same dark clouds churning behind Michael’s eyes. He watched Michael stand, turning away from him and throwing something to the side—a pen, likely the thing he had been messing with before. “And, uh… no Jer, I haven’t… I don’t… I’m not gonna be drinking anyone’s anything, alright? It’s not happening.”

It was a show of great restraint that Jeremy didn’t crack a dirty joke. His confusion greatly outweighed his need to diffuse an awkward situation. “What?”

Michael huffed, annoyance seeping into his stance as he turned back to face Jeremy. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ _bite_ anyone, Jeremy, okay? I’m not. I haven’t, either, and I don’t plan on it.”

“Is… is that even possible?”

Shrugging, Michael made his way over to his bed in the corner of his room, seeming to want to keep as much room between him and Jeremy as possible. Jeremy reminded himself that this wasn’t about him, but the distance stung nonetheless. “Sure,” Michael said, falling backwards and crossing his arms over his eyes. “Haven’t yet, have I?”

“No, I mean, like…” Michael’s fears be damned, Jeremy knew Michael, and Michael _wanted_ him close, wanted physical comfort. And he never held back from telling Jeremy when he overstepped. He trusted that he would still do that now. Jeremy stood, following the path Michael had taken to his bed, but hesitated to sit down with him. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and glanced down at Michael, concerned. “Can you still survive that way?”

Michael peered up at him through his arms, his expression unreadable. “Dunno.”

Jeremy’s heart was in his throat. He swallowed, finally resolving to sit down on the bed so he was facing Michael. “Michael, you can’t just not do something if not doing it is going to kill you.”

“Watch me, Jeremy.”

The way Michael said that scared Jeremy—his tone was flat, and he stated it as if it were a fact. Like he’d already resigned himself to this. And that was _terrifying_ , because Jeremy could only think of one other time Michael felt this… empty. This accepting of a grim situation. He realized that he, too, was shaking a bit.  He had to say something, he knew he needed to say something, but his mind was spinning like a tornado with a million different things he could say but another part his brain was telling him all the ways each of those options could go wrong and now he just felt dizzy.

 _Oh my god, okay, now is not the time for a panic attack_. He took in a shaky breath, instinctively reaching over and putting his hand on Michael. He hadn’t been going for anything particular, just touching him for the sake of it, and his hand hit Michael’s stomach, which jumped under the contact.

Michael looked up at him, a question in his gaze. “J—”

“Michael if you think I’m just gonna stand by and watch you neglect yourself to death you obviously don’t know me well enough.”

Whatever Michael had planned on saying died in his throat. He bit his lip, fiddling with a drawstring. Jeremy watched as the skin he’d pulled between his teeth went from pink to red to white from the force he was biting down on it with. The hand on Michael’s stomach skimmed up to his mouth, thumb running along Michael’s bottom lip to get him to stop. A habit Jeremy knew he should kick, but never finds it in himself to stop. Normally, Michael would have just rolled his eyes before he complied but now the reaction was immediate. Michael released his lip, leaving his mouth slightly open as his entire body went still. Though Jeremy didn’t know what was happening, it was getting something out of Michael, so he slid his hand to Michael’s cheek. Under his fingers, he felt Michael’s jaw clench, gritting his teeth. Seconds tick by, and suddenly Michael is grabbing his arm and shoving him away, eyes wide with… what seemed like fear. Both hands flew to cover his mouth, and he screwed his eyes shut. “You should leave,” he muttered, his words even harder to understand coming out between his fingers.

The way his voice shook only strengthened Jeremy’s resolve. “I’m not leaving, Michael.”

Michael rolled over onto his side on the bed, facing away from Jeremy. “Jeremy, _please_.” His voice was shaking now too, watery and tumultuous. Jeremy watched as his entire frame trembled.

“Micah…” He felt his conviction waver, looking at the way Michael was curled up on his side, trying to make himself as small as possible. It was only when Jeremy realized that he was crying that his determination resurfaced. “C’mon, babe, talk to me.”

“No, Jeremy, I’m being serious, please—”

“I’m sorry Michael, but I’m not leaving until we work this out.”

“I’m gonna fucking _jump you_ if you don’t _leave_!”

Michael sat up and turned around to look at Jeremy, eyes wide and darker than Jeremy ever remembered them being. Michael backed himself up until his back was pressed to the bed’s headboard, bringing his knees to his chest and hugging them. Tears fell freely, and he buried his face in his knees. “I can’t do this, Jer,” he said, sounding so broken. “I can’t hurt you, I can’t hurt anyone, and that’s all I want to do right now, I can’t, please Jeremy just—”

Michael’s head jerked up when Jeremy put a hand in his hair. Jeremy couldn’t help a small smile at the way Michael was looking at him, a mix of awe, sorrow, and confusion swimming in his eyes. “Breathe, Micah,” he said, putting his other hand on Michael’s leg. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No, Jeremy, it’s _not_.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you do?”

At that, Jeremy just shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He shuffled closer, moving so that he was sitting next to Michael against the headboard, hand still tangled in Michael’s hair. “But what I do know is you. You have this amazing ability to roll with whatever life throws at you, no matter how awful things may get.”

Tentatively, he leaned over, cradling Michael’s head into his chest and resting his chin in Michael’s hair. He felt Michael’s arms wrap around his back, Michael’s face burrowing into his shirt, and he smiled. “I know that you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through a lot, Michael, and you’ve survived everything so far. I don’t see this as much different. Sure, it’s like, supernatural or some shit, but you don’t have to deal with this alone. You have me, and Rich, and everyone else. You know that all of us are gonna stand by you through the freaky shit. We’ve all had something. This is just… uncharted waters for us. We’ll figure it out.”

Against him, Michael was letting his tears flow freely, muffling the sounds of his crying with Jeremy’s now-damp shirt. His hands were fisting in the fabric around Jeremy’s waist, holding him tight. With his hand firmly in Michael’s hair, Jeremy wrapped his other arm around Michael’s shoulders, pulling him closer. A broken sob rattled against his chest.

Jeremy held Michael as he rode out his emotions, giving a negative amount of shits about how soaked his shirt would be by the end of it all. He just kept stroking Michael’s hair, breathing in the smoky scent that lingered in his hair. To say this was easy for him, seeing Michael suffer like this, would’ve been a bold-faced lie. But being able to hold him always grounded Jeremy. Helped him be strong when Michael needed him to be. And he had a feeling that he would need that today.

Eventually, Michael’s sobs faded out into uneven breathing, but the trembling hadn’t let up. If anything, he was shaking even worse than before. Jeremy ran his hand down Michael’s back, feeling what seemed like a flinch from him at the contact. Jeremy pulled back, looking down at Michael, who was still facing down.

“Micah.”

Michael’s hands came around to Jeremy’s chest, only to grab at the shirt there as well. Jeremy could feel first hand just how badly Michael’s hands were shaking. He seemed to want to push Jeremy away, with the tension in his arms, but if anything, he seemed to hold Jeremy closer. Jeremy had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to leave now if he wanted.

“Michael.”

The grip in his shirt tightened, Michael’s knuckles turning white. Jeremy still couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t need to. He felt his own heartrate kick up at the realization of what he needed to do.

“We’ll figure this out, Micah, okay? I promise.”

Tentatively, Michael nodded his head, refusing to look at Jeremy. Jeremy tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. Dammit.

“But we can’t do anything while you’re like this.”

Michael tensed, a full-body shiver wracking his frame. “Jeremy—”

“You don’t even know what—”

“I know exactly what you’re going to say, and _I’m_ telling _you_ I would rather _die_ than sink my teeth into you.”

Any arguments Jeremy might have had against that died on his tongue at Michael’s tone. He sounded so… vitriolic. A kind of rage that was laced with disgust, words spat like venom from a snake’s fang.

Fang.

Fuck.

Okay, so. Poor metaphor choice.

The hands in his shirt were gone now, and once again Michael was curling in on himself, putting as much room between them as he can without phasing through the basement wall. Jeremy could see him working himself into a panic again, and okay this is getting a little ridiculous. He was making no progress, and seeing as none of his other approaches worked…

At a bit of a loss of what else to do, Jeremy slapped Michael.

Immediately, Michael recoiled, holding his red cheek with a look of hurt confusion in his eyes. “Dude, what the _fuck_.”

Jeremy sighed. “Sorry, I was losing you again... Just. Look.”

He shuffled forward on the bed until he was sitting in front of Michael, their knees touching. “You’re freaked. I get it. I am too, but only because of how you’re treating this.” Jeremy swallowed. “How you’re talking about it.” He reached out, brushing his hand on Michael’s thigh, smiling when Michael used a hand of his own to scoop up Jeremy’s, squeezing it.

“This is… a lot. Yeah. Way more than anyone should have to go through, let alone someone our age. But…” He brought their intertwined hands to his mouth, gripping Michael’s hand with both of his and clutching it to his mouth. “If there’s one thing those guys who did this to you were right about, it’s that you’re way too awesome to die.”

Michael’s hand started to shake, so Jeremy kissed it, dropping their hands down to his lap and rubbing the back of Michael’s with his thumb. “We _can_ fix this. I don’t know if there’s a cure, or anything like that, but we won’t stop looking, okay? There has to be something out there, and we will find it. But we can’t do that if you give up on me. You’ve been through worse, you know you have. You’ve struggled through hell and back, and all on your own. You can do this, especially with me and everyone else backing you. Ya hear me?”

There was a moment where Michael just sat there, silent, chewing on his lip again. Jeremy was about to ask if he’d said something wrong when Michael was tackling him in a hug, causing them both to tumble back. Michael caught him in a sweet kiss, and Jeremy smiled against Michael’s lips, wrapping his arms around Michael’s shoulders and shifting them so that they were more comfortably splayed out on the bed. One of Michael’s hands started running through Jeremy’s hair, touch gentle and loving, and the contact made Jeremy melt. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt to be like this.

Michael pulled away, eyes still closed, and buried his face in Jeremy’s shoulder. “I have no idea what I did to get you, or why you’re still here, but. Thank you. So much.”

Jeremy smiled, rubbing Michael’s back idly with a hand. “All you had to do was be yourself, Micah.”

“Oh, shut up. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I mean that.”

Another pause. Jeremy could practically hear the gears in Michael’s head turning, and it made him chuckle. “You feeling any better?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Feeling better enough to try biting me?”

Michael flinched against him, face red against the thin fabric of Jeremy’s shirt. “That sounds so weird. Don’t say that.”

“What would you rather I call it? Feeding? That’s some Twilight shit, dude. I calls it like it is.”

“I guess.”

“You’re not gonna distract me, Micah. I love you, and you need to take care of yourself. Besides.” Jeremy cracked a smile, shrugging with the shoulder Michael wasn’t against. “Knowing me, I’ll probably be into it.”

That earned him a snort from Michael, who sat up atop Jeremy, his eyes damp with tears but a smile on his face. “You dork,” he muttered, wiping his eyes with his hoodie sleeve.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I can’t. I seriously can’t.”

They shared a laugh, Michael still all-but straddling Jeremy, who was still lying back against the bed. Jeremy’s hands traced up Michael’s thighs to his hips, resting there. He gazed up at Michael, who still had a hint of laughter in his eyes. “So?”

The light in Michael’s eyes died, swallowed by the already brown irises turning near black. Michael took a sharp inhale, glancing to the side. “I…” He swallowed, his eyes flickering to what Jeremy assumed was his neck before immediately looking away again. “M-maybe… in a little bit. I know that I need to, and I guess I feel… a bit better about it, but…”

Michael blinked his eyes profusely, shaking his head and not opening his eyes until they had faded back into their original, warm color. Jeremy saw anxious fear swirling in them, and he sighed, offering Michael a reassuring smile. “I understand. That’s alright. Just don’t think I’m gonna let you off the hook that easily, alright?”

He grinned at the small chuckle he elicited from Michael. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“Well, actually…”

Instead of finishing his sentence, he used his grip on Michael’s hips to toss Michael onto his back, flopping on top of him with a low giggle from the beautiful boy beneath him. “I think I might as well try.”

Michael rolled his eyes, folding his hands behind his head and smirking. God, it was nice to see Michael acting like himself again. Or rather, closer to the way Jeremy knew him to act. The tension in his shoulders never fully left, and there was a strain to his smile. Nonetheless, Jeremy would take it.

He leaned down, pecking Michael’s smiling lips. “C’mon, you wanna keep playing Mortal Kombat?”

Michael chuckled, squirming underneath Jeremy. “What, and have you kick my ass again? No thanks.”

“Hmm, that is true, I _would_ completely destroy you…” Ignoring the sound of indignation from Michael, Jeremy thought. “Okay, so maybe… we can work on Super Mario 3D World instead? I think if we focus we can finish World 3 today.”

“You think so? We’ve still got a few levels left.”

“Micah, we’ve had this game for like, two days and we’re already halfway done.”

Michael chuckled, playfully shoving Jeremy off him and rolling onto the floor. Jeremy peeked over the edge of the bed to see Michael staring up at him. They both started smiling at the same time. “Can’t argue with that logic.”


	2. This is What I Was Afraid Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy is a Nervous but Good Boyfriend and Michael Struggles More™
> 
> sometimes, the people around you know what's best for you, even when you refuse to believe it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello naughty children it's angsty neck biting time B)

As it turned out, Jeremy was correct. It was only a few hours later that the two of them made it to the last level’s flag, the scores tallying up on the screen. Jeremy felt himself grinning from ear to ear, and when he glanced over at Michael he saw his boyfriend’s eyes sparkling with excitement. Jeremy leaned over, wrapping an arm around Michael’s shoulders and pulling him close. Their beanbags had long since been pushed together on the floor, allowing for comfortable cuddling during their abundant and lengthy gaming sessions, which meant that Michael fell easily against him. He felt Michael melt happily into him, glancing up and smiling.

“Nice, dude.”

Jeremy chuckled. “Not too bad yourself. Your score was almost always higher than mine, so… you’re the one who deserves congratulations, babe.”

He received an overexaggerated eye roll for his efforts, and Michael weaseled his way out of Jeremy’s hold, curling up in his own beanbag and trying to pass it off as nonchalant. Jeremy frowned.

“How are you feeling now?”

Michael flinched, glaring at the TV. “Fine.”

“That’s not an answer, Micah, and you know it.”

Slowly, Michael nodded, turning on his side to face Jeremy, still curled into a ball as much as the position would allow him. “Marginally less shitty, I guess.”

“Maybe… maybe better enough to try biting me now?”

For a tense moment, Michael just stared at him. When Jeremy stared back, he saw the same fear swirling in Michael’s darkening eyes. But, instead of trying to refuse again as Jeremy had expected him to, Michael just sighed. “Not really, but… I don’t think I’ll ever be, so…” He shrugged, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head to cover his face. It made it impossible for Jeremy to read his expressions. “With the way you keep insisting like this, anyways… I’m honestly not sure I could stop myself at this point.”

“Good,” Jeremy said, settling back into his beanbag chair, satisfied. “Then I’ve done my job. How do you want me?”

Michael took a moment to think, face still hidden beneath the shadows of his hood, and Jeremy let the silence float between them.

Eventually, Michael stood, looking around. “I guess… there’s fine. I don’t know. I have no idea how this works, so…”

Jeremy couldn’t help a smile as Michael slid onto his lap, hands instinctively going to Michael’s hips. There was a brief pause where Michael sat back, seeming to deliberate over something, and he reached down to rid Jeremy of his shirt, tossing it to the side. Jeremy wiggled his eyebrows, which made Michael shake his head.

“Oh my god,” he muttered, incredulous, the barest hints of a laugh in his voice. “Shut up, you horny piece of shit. I just didn’t want anything to get on it.”

“ _Sure_ , Micah.”

This time, Michael was close enough that Jeremy could make out some of his features; he could definitely see enough that he didn’t miss the eye roll the words earned him. Giggling, Jeremy reached up to run a hand through Michael’s hair, knocking his hood off in the process. Their eyes met, and Jeremy was astonished at just how dark Michael’s eyes had gotten. The soft brown had faded into something close to black, and those eyes flickered over him like a wolf on the edges of a chicken enclosure. Jeremy swallowed, his heartbeat racing in too many different ways at once.

Michael trembled atop him, placing an unsteady hand on Jeremy’s chest. “Try to calm down, Jer. Your pulse is giving me a headache.”

“Not sure that’s possible at this point, sorry.”

Michael sighed, leaning down to nuzzle into Jeremy’s shoulder. His breathing deepened against Jeremy, and he hummed when Jeremy ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s alright,” he said, words coming out on an exhale. “I’m… nervous too. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

“Hey, take your time. I could sit like this all day.”

He felt Michael smile against his skin, lips ghosting across the expanse of Jeremy’s shoulder and neck. It felt nice. Jeremy busied himself with petting Michael’s hair, doing his best to stay relaxed as Michael seemed to find a spot he liked.

Jeremy tensed, just for a second, when he felt something sharp scrape against his skin and okay _okay_ those are definitely fangs. A small wave of warmth radiated from the point of contact, a burning that throbbed faintly along with his pulse. Okay. His hand in Michael’s hair tightened on instinct, but when Michael tried to pull away, he used that leverage to stop him.  

“Don’t even think about it, Micah. I’m fine. Go ahead.”

Michael hesitated, but eventually resumed, and the scraping came back full-force. Jeremy couldn’t say that this was what he was expecting. He felt a spike in the burning, and Michael gasped against him.

Okay, yep, this was _definitely_ not what he had expected. There were always two depictions of vampire bites that he saw in popular media: it was either excruciatingly painful, or there was something about it that made it feel really, really good. This… wasn’t really either of those. Jeremy would loosely equate it to that feeling when you scrape your knee, and don’t really do anything to it for a while. Not really a pleasant feeling, but not painful, just. Burning.

What made it err on the side of pleasant was Michael. The pressure on top of him was always great, as Jeremy loved when Michael would lay on him because he was so warm and soft. One of Michael’s hands was mindlessly trailing up and down Jeremy’s side, fingertips brushing against bare skin. The area Michael was focusing on was hyper sensitive, and every brush of his lips against Jeremy’s skin made him sigh, carding his fingers through Michael’s hair.

However, as time swam by, and Michael was still taking from him, that sensitivity spread, and turned sour. Every point of contact they had on Jeremy’s bare skin felt rough, a more intense version of the burn that had started it all, and Jeremy’s thoughts turned slow and syrupy. He had enough semblance of mind to know that this was probably not a good sign.

With the hand still in Michael’s hair, he tugged, trying to get Michael’s attention. The movement was sluggish, though, and didn’t do much. Michael gripped his side, now, and Jeremy hissed at the contact.

“Micah… hey.”

Nothing.

“Micah, stop.”

Nope.

 _Shit_. It didn’t seem like Michael was present enough to stop on his own. Jeremy had a part here, too.

Hoping that Michael hadn’t already taken too much for this to work, Jeremy braced a hand against Michael’s shoulder, shoving him with everything he had. He succeeded in his efforts, Michael detaching himself from Jeremy’s shoulder, recoiling back a few inches with a gasp similar to the one he’d let out when he’d first bitten down. He was propped up on his arms now, and for a moment, he stared down at Jeremy, eyes hazy and almost entirely consumed by the black of his irises. He was looking at Jeremy, sure, but it didn’t feel like he was _seeing_ him. Jeremy’s head was swimming too much to think of something to say. All he could think about was the way Michael had blood dripping down his face, mingling with the red of his hoodie. Different reds, but similar enough. Nobody would probably notice. Michael looked pretty, in a haunting way. Jeremy gave a weak smile.

Suddenly, Michael snapped out of whatever trance had held him, and his eyes faded back to normal, immediately flooding with fear when he saw the state Jeremy was in. “Shit. Shit shit shit shit okay, um, let me find something to stop the bleeding with, hold on Jer.”

The weight atop Jeremy left, and he closed his eyes, feeling tired. He felt a pressure against his shoulder at the same time a hand pressed to his cheek, lifting his head. “Okay, no, don’t you close your eyes now. C’mon, look at me, Jeremy.”

Jeremy reluctantly opened his eyes, and he smiled when he was Michael’s face hovering over his. He looked concerned, and Jeremy mused to himself that Michael looked really cute, because Michael was always really cute, even with blood on his lips. He brought a hand up to Michael’s face, running his fingers over Michael’s features, the pads coming away bloody. He must have said something out loud, because Michael just shook his head.

“Shut up, okay? Hold this.”

He brought Jeremy’s hand up to the towel being held to his shoulder, and Jeremy held onto it as Michael ran to the other side of his room to grab a spare blanket he kept over by the bed. He folded it in half and draped it over Jeremy. Jeremy hummed and snuggled into the fleece, feeling comfortable.

“Here, eat some of these.”

Michael’s hand was in his, and when Jeremy looked down there were a few Oreo’s in his palm. While he didn’t really feel like eating, he also didn’t feel like _not_ eating, and the edge of concern to Michael’s voice had him popping one into his mouth whole. His jaw complained at the action, but after a few more he started regaining some clarity in his mind.

He waited until he had eaten all the cookies Michael had given him before he spoke. He decided to go a lighter route, in hopes of diffusing Michael’s anxieties. “You know, I was joking about the whole ‘probably into it’ thing, but—”

“How can you be _joking_ after that?”

Michael gripped his own hair and tugged, expression fearful and stressed. “Jeremy, I don’t think you realize that I could have _killed_ you. Fuck, I almost _did_!” He buried his face in his hands, falling back to sit on his heels on the floor. “God, this is what I was afraid of.”

“Whoah, hey, look at me.”

Tentatively, Michael met Jeremy’s gaze, and Jeremy smiled at him. “You didn’t kill me, Micah, I’m right here. A bit lightheaded, sure, but I’ve donated blood that’s left me feeling worse.” It might be an exaggeration, but Jeremy knew that Michael was in no state for Jeremy to tell him what had really happened in those few moments. “Besides, you’d said so yourself—you didn’t know what you were doing. Neither of us really knew what to do. And the only way to figure that shit out is to do it. If we do it wrong, then we realize that something’s gotta be adjusted.”

“I can’t afford those kinds of mistakes when your life is on the line, Jeremy!”

At that, Jeremy just shrugged. “Let’s think about it this way: we now know what taking too much looks like. That’s a boundary we know.”

Michael had started shaking again, and shuffled over next to Jeremy on the other beanbag so he could put his head on Jeremy’s clean shoulder. “I didn’t even… I could tell I was going too far, something… _tasted_ wrong, the longer it went on, but… it took you physically pushing me away for me to stop.” He curled in on himself, knees to his chest with his arms folded over his knees. He hid his face amidst the fabric of his hoodie sleeves. “God, why didn’t I stop? Why _couldn’t_ I stop?”

“That’s…” _A great question that I don’t think you’re ready to answer right now_. “A question for another day.” Jeremy eventually settled on, wrapping his arm around Michael’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “Did that help?”

“… yeah.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound sure.”

Michael gave a non-committal shrug, burying his face deeper into the fabric. “I don’t feel… like I’m going crazy anymore. I don’t think… I took enough to be fully… okay, but. I’ll live.”

“Well!” Jeremy smiled, planting a kiss into Michael’s hair. “Let’s stamp the word _progress_ on that.”

Michael hummed into his arms, not sounding convinced. “I just can’t believe that, after what I did to you, the… the _way_ I left you, that… that wasn’t enough.” He shrunk into himself a little bit more, and Jeremy tightened his hold around him, shaking him a bit with the motion.

“Hey, hold on.”

Gently, he used the hand that was on the opposite side of Michael to lift Michael’s face, turning it towards himself. He leaned down to brush their lips together, resting his forehead against Michael’s. “I’m right here, Micah. Okay? You didn’t hurt me, I’m fine. And, as for the whole…” He hesitated, not sure how Michael would want him to word this. “Still being hungry thing, I dunno. You just… need more blood than one person can safely give you.”

Michael winced against him, turning away and refusing to meet Jeremy’s gaze. Jeremy sighed. “And that’s _okay_. You shouldn’t feel bad for what you need, Michael.”

“Yeah… I know.”

Jeremy lifted up the towel he was holding to his shoulder, hoping that the bleeding had stopped so he could put it down. It looked like it had, when he checked, so he tossed the towel onto the floor. Taking a moment to test the mobility of his arm, and finding himself almost at normal, Jeremy removed himself from Michael’s side. He didn’t miss Michael’s confused expression, which quickly lit up like a firetruck when Jeremy flipped over to be sitting in Michael’s lap, resting his hands on Michael’s shoulders and making himself comfortable. When he glanced back down at Michael, he saw his boyfriend’s eyes wide and shining with tears. He seemed incapable of words, opting instead to run his hands up Jeremy’s legs, past his hips, going to grip his back. He stared at Jeremy with unadulterated awe.

A hand worked itself into Jeremy’s hair, fingers tangling in his curls, and he was pulled down to meet Michael in a kiss. Jeremy’s hands wandered up into Michael’s own hair, the stiffness from the hair gel fading into the natural softness that suited Michael so well. Michael was soft all around, so it only made sense that his hair would also be soft.

No matter how long they had been together, or how many times they had kissed before, Jeremy almost always had to coax Michael into relaxing. Michael’s lips—they still had small amounts of blood on them, which didn’t taste like much of anything to Jeremy—were soft and warm as they moved against his, hesitantly searching for love on Jeremy’s tongue. Jeremy carded his hands through Michael’s hair, smoothing it back out of Michael’s face and cupping his cheeks, holding him like Jeremy might lose him if he let go.

There were times when Jeremy couldn’t help but believe that.

It was Michael that eventually broke the kiss, seeming a bit reluctant to do so, but he sighed happily when he pulled Jeremy closer, burrowing into Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy hugged him back, planting small kisses to the top of his head.

“I… don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Jeremy pulled back, confused. Michael stared back at him with a sad smile playing at his lips. “Even without the whole… unwilling vampire thing, I never understood. Why you’re here, why you’ve stayed for so long… how you could possibly love me back.”

Jeremy, indignant, opened his mouth to _vehemently_ disagree, because how _dare_ Michael not see how beautiful and amazing he was, but Michael kept going. “I don’t know what I did,” he repeated, softer than before, “but I’ll never stop doing it. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jer.” Michael’s grip around Jeremy’s waist tightened, pulling Jeremy closer once again so Michael could look up his chest at him, chin resting against his skin. “Where I’d be. I know it wouldn’t be as great as here, though.” He swallowed, glancing to the side as if too ashamed to look at Jeremy anymore. “I don’t think it’s something I should think about for too long.”

When he was sure Michael didn’t have anything else to say, Jeremy rested a hand against his cheek, guiding his face until he was looking back up at Jeremy. “Hey,” Jeremy said, volume low to account for the close proximity. Michael’s hands tightened on Jeremy’s back, his eyes troubled as he continued to refuse eye contact. He stared instead at the remnants of blood on Jeremy’s shoulder, chewing on his lip. Jeremy ran his thumb across Michael’s mouth, and felt Michael relax, even if by just a fraction, against him. Jeremy smiled. “Micah, every day I wish that I could show you yourself through my eyes. I’d love to turn myself into a mirror and reflect back to you everything I love about you.”

When Michael didn’t seem to believe him, Jeremy huffed. “It would take too long to list it all, but I’ll give you the sparknotes.”

As he began to list all his favorite things about Michael (of which he was really just scratching the surface, but he meant it when he said they’d need at least all day for the unabridged version), he punctuated each remark with a kiss, each to different parts of Michael’s body that reminded him of the traits. “You have the softest hair. And softest lips. Not to mention the most beautiful smile. Your laugh is like, musical. You’re incredibly smart. You’re great at video games. You’re passionate about everything you love.”

Michael still refused to look at him—though there was a noticeable difference in how red his face was—but Jeremy kept going, running his hands up and down Michael’s arms. “You know me better than anyone else, Micah. You’ve been there for me through everything. Nothing, _nothing_ that I’ve told you or that I’ve put you through has scared you away. You keep faith in me, like you do with everyone.”

Jeremy rested a hand against Michael’s cheek, and smiled when one of Michael’s hands reached to cover his own. “You didn’t do anything to ‘deserve’ me. You won me over from the very beginning.”

When Michael went to look up at him, Jeremy took the opportunity to steal a kiss (or four). He couldn’t help but smile against Michael’s lips, pressing just that much closer. “If anything,” he muttered, words buzzing into the kiss, “I won the best prize of all.”

Lips met teeth as Michael failed to fight back a huge grin, Jeremy opting instead to kiss down to Michael’s neck, blowing a raspberry into the lowest patch of skin he could reach without hitting cloth. Michael snickered, pushing him away to the point that Jeremy toppled over onto the rug, one leg still flung over Michael’s lap. They laughed, Michael moving to lay on top of Jeremy where he had landed on the floor. Jeremy squirmed, comfortable, and Michael rested his head on Jeremy’s clean shoulder. “You’re such a fucking dork,” Michael said, breath ghosting against Jeremy’s chest.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

“Damn straight you are.” Michael shifted up, pressing a kiss to the underside of Jeremy’s jaw. “I’m your dork, too, y’know.”

Jeremy smiled, leaning down to meet Michael’s kiss. “Yup. You’re mine, I’m yours, all that mushy lovey-dovey stuff.”

“Aaaand the moment is ruined.”

As Michael was moving off of him, Jeremy cackled, chasing after him. “Aw, c’mon babe! That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever said to you.”

“The bar for that is _really low_ , Jer. That’s not an accomplishment.”

Michael was across the room from him now, grabbing something out of the minifridge near his bed. Sneaking up behind him, Jeremy helped himself to a handful of Michael’s ass. The person the ass was connected to yelped, immediately standing up and whirling around. Michael saw Jeremy biting back laughter, his face painted a bright shade of red, as it always did whenever anything even remotely embarrassing or sexual happened. Michael dropped the soda he had gotten out of his fridge, making fake grabby hands. “Oh it is _on_.”

They chased each other down the basement for several minutes, both of them laughing as they tried to grope the other without getting the same treatment themselves. Michael rushed him, a hand going to Jeremy’s legs and ho _ly shit where did the floor go_.

For a stark moment of confusion, Jeremy just blinked, before finally looking down to see that Michael, the very same Michael that got winded during the two laps their gym teacher made them do sophomore year, was holding him. Bridal style, to be specific.

Jeremy looked over at Michael, who appeared to be just as confused as he was. “Okay, that’s… new.”

A wicked smile spread across Jeremy’s face, earning him a suspicious glare from Michael. “Oh we are _definitely_ taking advantage of this.”

Rolling his eyes, Michael unceremoniously dropped Jeremy onto a beanbag chair. Jeremy let out an indignant sound, crossing his arms as Michael went to pick up his soda. Michael handed Jeremy a fresh one from the fridge before opening the one that had been on the floor. He only took a few sips before setting the can down next to his own beanbag, plopping down into it with about as much grace as he had dropped Jeremy with. His hands went back into his pocket, and his eyes went out of focus. Jeremy poked him with his soda can.

“Yo. Micah.”

“Hmm?” Michael didn’t move to look at him.

“This is all gonna turn out okay. I promise.”

Michael sighed, grabbing his drink off the floor. “Yeah… I know.”

Smiling, Jeremy extended his can with a flourish. “A toast!”                      

“To what?”

“Does a toast need to have a reason?”

“Uh… yeah? Last time I checked.”

“Fine.” Jeremy huffed, wracking his brain for a good reason. “How about… to your courage. To tell the rest of the group.”

Michael groaned, his head falling back onto the chair. “Fuck, I forgot.” He pushed his glasses farther up his nose, meeting Jeremy’s soda can with his half-heartedly. “If the toast’ll give me a boost, I’ll take anything I can get.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, but I won't be continuing this universe anymore,,,, ><" buT you just might be getting some..... vampire!Jeremy from me..... at some point....... stay tuned...... maybe

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all are ready for the second part when Shit Gets Real™
> 
> oh, and also, there will be a few things left open ended or unanswered in this. i plan to do more with this universe >:)


End file.
